


In This Jungle (You Can't Run)

by NerdAlert (alltimelisa)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Choking, Established Relationship, M/M, Roleplay, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:07:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23755873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltimelisa/pseuds/NerdAlert
Summary: Peter and Stiles role play and fuck. That's literally it, pure smut.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Kudos: 83





	In This Jungle (You Can't Run)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a little kinky and they don't discuss any of it, but they are a couple so it can be assumed they had discussed particulars beforehand. This isn't noncon/dubcon in anyway, but if there's anything you want me to tag that I haven't please let me know.  
> Title is from Bruno Mars Gorilla, a song about fucking because why not.  
> Anyways, thanks for reading!

Peter is sitting at the bar drinking a scotch neat, not his preferred drink but it helps him fit in around the rough crowd. This is a bar that only locals go to, despite being relatively close to the college campus. A large man walks in and Peter nods to him but does not move from his seat, he isn’t in the mood to play nice tonight and the patrons react accordingly. He orders one last drink for the road and is about to slam it back when he smells something enticing. Taking a sip and letting the alcohol roll around in his mouth Peter turns casually towards the entrance of the bar and sees a new face. He is somewhat surprised, knowing the college won't be open for the fall semester for a few more days and with the bar off the main street most students will spend four years down the block from here and never know of the bars existence.

He tries to look at the place from the kids perspective, and finds it severely lacking. Dusty wooden floors, stained and scratched from many broken glasses and spilled drinks. A bartop that is gleaming but still shows its age, and a crowd that is full of blue collar workers grabbing a beer before heading home. The decor is drab and uninspiring, if you can call a pool table in the far left, and a dart board on the opposite side ‘decor’. All in all he expects the kid to turn right back around and leave, but he doesn’t. 

Instead the kid saunters up to the bar, hips swaying as if he knows there are eyes on him, confident that he’s got everyone hooked, and he isn't too far off the mark. He's got pink pouty lips that look like he’d be right at home on his knees with a cock in his throat. Smooth pale skin, only interrupted by a smattering of moles that Peter wants to trace, with his  _ tongue. _ His long legs are encased in a pair of indigo blue jeans, tight enough that it's a wonder the boy can breath. Some would say the look is ruined by the green and brown plaid shirt but for Peter it merely adds to the appeal. Peter looks up and meets the boys honey colored eyes, and finds himself matching the boys smirk. 

The boy sits and the bar and raps his knuckles on the wood, eyeing the bartender appreciatively. 

“I’ll have a tequila sunrise,” the boy says with a smirk. The bartender merely arches his brow. 

“I’m gonna need to see some i.d. First.” The boy chuckles before pulling out a slim wallet from his pocket and Peter wonders how it even fit in the first place. 

“If you wanted my name all you had to do was ask,” the bartender rolls his eyes, already handing the card back to the boy. 

“Mieczysław, that's a bit of a mouthful,” the man says with a grimace handing the card back. Finally the boy manages to lose his sultry act for a second, surprised at the pretty accurate pronunciation. He doesn't get a chance to respond before Peter slides in. 

“Polish name, are you here studying abroad”

“No, my mom saddled me with the name because my Babcia would’ve risen from her grave and strangled her if she hadn’t,” the boy says with a chuckle. 

“For you though, you can call me Stiles, all of my friends do,” The bartender places the colorful drink in front of the boy, Stiles, and immediately he tongues at the straw before taking a strong sip. Peter's pants tighten in response, no doubt what the boy had wanted from his display. 

“Am I your friend,  _ Stiles _ ?”

“Ask me that question in a few hours…” he says trailing off. 

“Peter,” the older man supplies helpfully. 

“Peter,” the boy says, getting a feel for the name in his mouth, before grinning slow and sweet like honey. “I like that.”

The pair spend another 20 minutes talking and flirting, and when Stiles slurps up the last of his drink, popping the cherry in his mouth seductively Peter waves down the bartender. Closing out his tab with a quick, ‘thanks, Chris” he shepherds the boy out of the bar. 

They're barely outside of the bar before Peter is pushing Stiles against the side of the building and kissing him thoroughly. His hands immediately fall to the boys hips and he doesn’t know if he wants to hold him back and drag this out, or pull him forward and grind their hips together until they cum in their pants like teenagers. Stiles hands grip the hairs on the back of his neck and he groans into the older man's mouth. He has no control in this kiss, just hanging on for the ride and he loves it. Finally after what feels like hours, Peter pulls back, and they pull in air, gasping into each others face. 

“Let's get out of here before Chris bans me from his bar,” Peter says untangling himself from Stiles' grip. Stiles grabs his hand and pulls him towards a blue jeep sitting in the parking lot. 

“I drive, you direct,” Stiles says with a coy smile unlocking the car. Peter hops in, suddenly very glad he had decided to go out tonight. 

The two end up at a makeout point not far from the campus, not well used while the college is out of session making it the perfect place to park, with cops unlikely to drive by before the semester has even started. 

They make their way to the back seat and Peter pulls Stiles on top of him, with the younger boy stretched flat against him he can feel his hardness rubbing against his thigh. Peter grinds up against him, and both men groan in pleasure. He reaches down and unbuttons Stiles pants, letting out a sound of frustration when the angle doesn’t allow him to get his hands on his dick. He pushes stiles forward and the boy moves without protest. They make quick worok of their clothes. Peter pulls his pants down to his ankles, and Stiles does the same, they leave their shirts on in case anyone comes by, but they both know if that happens they’ll be totally screwed. And not in the good way. 

“Do you have lube?” Stiles answers by reaching between the seats and pulling out a few travel packets. Peter wastes no time, ripping the packaging open with his teeth he pushes the boy forward until he is on his hands and knees. He swings back and slaps the boys ass, feeling a satisfying sting in his palm, while Stiles keens and leaks out precum. Peter wishes it wasn't so dark so he could leave the boys ass red and hot before he fucks him, but there isn’t enough time for that. 

Peter drizzles the lube over Stiles hole, blowing air to make the boy shiver. He opens up another packet and uses that to slick up his fingers. He presses one in without preamble, relishing the hiss Stiles lets out as his hole opens up around his fingers. When Stiles is stretched enough Peter adds a second, then a third finger, and it isnt long before Stiles is rocking back, fucking himself on the older mans fingers. Peter pulls his three digits out and Stiles whines at the loss, already so close to cumming. 

“Shhhh, sweetheart, I know what you need,” Peter says and Slaps his ass three times in quick succession. 

“Fuck! Peter,” Stiles calls out, leaning back into the man, not even pretending he doesn’t like it. 

“Oh darling don't worry, I intend to,” Peter murmurs before pulling Stiles down into his lap. He would love to fuck the boy on his hands and knees, ponfing until his arms gave out, but in a jeep as small as this one there isnt enough space. There is barely enough space for the two of them. 

“Are you ready,” Peter questions as he positions the head of his dick against Stiles hole. The boy nods like a bobble head, letting out a litany of yeses and that is all Peter needs to pull him down onto his cock. They both moan at the sensation. Peter chokes on an inhale when immediately Stiles lifts himself up, and sicks down a little deeper. There is already a light sheen of sweat on the younger boys skin and they both know he will not last long. 

Peter helps him on his next movement, helping lift the boy up only to pull him back down to meet his thrust. Despite their limited movement this feels great, and they're both gasping at the sensations. Stiles grips the headrest in front of him and uses it as leverage, pulling himself up only to slam back down, Peter grunts but adjusts his stroke to meet the boy on every downward motion. 

Stiles thighs begin to shake not long after and Peter ends up doing the heavy lifting. He pulls Stiles flush against him, one hand on his throat and fucks into him, using the boy like his own personal fleshlight. Peter tightens his grip and that's all it takes for Stiles to cum, shooting ropes of fum onto his chest, some even falling on Peter's hand, and on the windows. Peter groans as Stiles tightens around him, milking his cock. He keeps pistoning his hips, not slowing down, ignoring as the boy whimpers as he pounds into his prostate. When Peter finally cums it’s with a roar. He lets go of Stiles and the boy slumps forward, gasping for air. 

The pair take a moment to breath, and Peter gently helps Stiles off of his rapidly softening dick. Peter pulls out a wet wipe and wipes the two of them down. They pull up their pants and Stiles leans over to kiss the older man softly. They kiss slowly, just exploring each other while they have time. 

  
As they drive home that night Stiles looks over to Peter and says, “We have got to role play more often, that was fucking  _ awesome _ .”


End file.
